The FiveOhFirst: Baptism By Fire
by fearless panzer
Summary: Follow Commissar Kevin McCullin, as he begins his training at the Schola Progenium to his hunt for the infamous Lord Marreus Crane with the Cadian 501st Regiment, all the while trying to overcome horrors of his dark past.
1. Chapter 1

Okay this is my second story but I scraped my first story because it was rubbish. I hope you enjoy this hopefully better story.

Cadia. Fortress world and home to the Cadian Gate, one of the only stable routes out of the Eye of Terror; Cadia is one of the most strategically important worlds in the galaxy. The Cadian Gate is the one escape route out of the Eye of Terror, and the forces of the Chaos traitor legions have launched many attacks to gain control Cadia and thus secure their entryway into the universe. The first line of defense against the legions of horrors that spit out of the warp gate is the Imperial Guard of the Cadian Shock Troopers. Millions of brave men and women stand ready to battle the armies of Chaos, sacrificing their lives to hold back the unholy armada of Chaos. One lord of Chaos has launched thirteen so-called 'Black Crusades' against the warriors of the Imperium. This Abaddon the Despoiler has been pushed back time after time; however he managed to secure most of the world of Cadia in his thirteenth Black Crusade. The warriors of Chaos established a major foothold on the fortress world, although their fleet was destroyed by the Imperial Navy, leaving them without resupply or reinforcement.

Our story begins after the defeat of the Chaos fleet, and in the tight streets of a once great Cadian city a battered regiment is mopping up the remaining Chaos forces entrenched there.

Bolter and las fire were exchanged in the streets of Kasr Kallen. Three Chaos marines of the Black Legion walked out of a nearby building accompanied by a squad of seven cult Guardsmen. Several artillery shells hit the ground in front of them, taking out two of the Marines. The startled guardsmen began to preach defeatist statements between each other. The remaining marine ended this with a bolter round to the head of a guardsman, its tainted blood squirting over the marine's armour as its head exploded.

Out of the smoke of the artillery shells flung a grenade that landed in a break in the marines armour under his shoulder guard. The grenade exploded, and blew off the marines arm in a spray of blood and gore. The marine dropped dead on the ground. The guardsmen looked at the corpse in shock, and turned to the smoke screen as the rumble of treads could be heard. A spray of heavy bolter rounds and las bolts erupted out of the smoke, killing the traitor guard before they had a chance to react. Several squads of guardsmen appeared out of the fading smoke accompanied by a Leman Russ Demolisher class tank. The Platoon Command squad moved to the front of the advance to survey the damage. The lieutenant nodded, satisfied. He turned around at his weapons specialist, grinning.

"Excellent kill Dorn." He exclaimed.

The trooper nodded with a smirk on his face, a smoking grenade launcher in his hands. From behind the Demolisher a man in a red and black trench coat and peaked cap appeared. He walked up to the lieutenant and surveyed the bodies in front of them.

"Excellent work lieutenant." He said, turning to the lieutenant with a satisfied smile on his face.

The lieutenant saluted the man, holding him in high regard. "Thank you my lord Commissar!"

The Commissar chuckled at the display, "settle down Chase, we've worked together for a year, please just call me by my name."

Lieutenant Chase Williams relaxed himself, breathing a relieved sigh, "Yes Commissar McCullin."

It was now the Commissar's turn to sigh. Commissar Tomas McCullin was a grizzled man in his mid forties, with graying hair neatly combed under his cap. Although he shaved every morning that he could stubble formed on his face. He had a bolt pistol in and unbuttoned holster attached to his belt and in his right hand he held a power sword with the inscription "Sentio Quod Jury" on the blade, an heirloom of his commissariat family.

As the patrol began to move forward a trooper noticed something inside a derelict building. Something moving! He yelled to the lieutenant and commissar to come to him, so they could see it for themselves.

"You better take a look at this sirs" the trooper said to them and gestured the commissar to look. "Something's in there sir, something alive sir."

The Commissar pulled out his bolt pistol and pointed at the doorway. "This is Commissar Thomas McCullin of the Cadian 501st Regiment, and I'm ordering you to show yourself. Failure to do so will force me to open fire!"

In the shadows of the building's interior a figure could be made out. The trooper and lieutenant Williams slightly raised their weapons. Out of the shadows came a boy of around 14 years of age. His clothes were torn and ripped at places and scars were all over his body. He was skinny and looked quite weak and tired, possibly from starvation during the battle for this city. His shaggy brown hair went down to be just above his shoulders and in his limp hand he barely held a battered laspistol.

The Commissar looked at him and quickly requested a medic to treat him. The boy stumbled and began to fall, the commissar grabbing him before he could hit the ground. He felt something strange around this boy, something unique. He continued to think about it as the boy was carried away on a stretcher by Medicae to a Chimera.


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so I hope you enjoyed the short first chapter and if you didn't I hope you'll like this one.

The boy woke up in a hospital bed. He looked around at the beds surrounding his. There were several wounded men being tended to by medicae operatives. One of them had lost an arm. He looked at his scars on his body to find that he was covered in stitches. The blood that was on his arms was gone and a needle was stuck in his right wrist attached to a bag of clear fluid that was being pumped into his body.

"So, you finally came to," He looked to the door where the voice came from and saw the Commissar from the city. "How are you feeling?" asked the Commissar.

The boy weakly smiled. "I'm alright sir." The commissar smiled back. He walked over to the bedside and brought a chair over to the bedside and sat down.

"I am Commissar Tomas McCullin, but you can call me Tom" He stuck out his hand, gesturing for him to shake it. "And you?" The boy hesitated at first, merely looking at the commissars hand. He slowly grabbed the commissar's hand and weakly shook it. "My name is Kevin sir." He let go of Tom's hand, dropping it to his side. Tom smiled sympathetically for a moment. He looked out of the window to the remains of the city. The streets were full of debris and the dead of both sides. One large street leading up to an intersection was littered with destroyed tanks, light tanks ripped apart by cannon fire and chaos armor burning with a corrupted fire from the open hatches. Tom sighed; saddened at the state of the world he learned to call his home.

He turned to Kevin, smiling. "I shall be back in a while, you must rest. It must've been hard in the ruins." The commissar got up and exited the ward. Outside the room, in the corridor of the Medicae, he was approached from behind by a tall man who grabbed his shoulder. Tom turned swiftly in surprise to see a tall man in a black trench coat and a peaked cap with a golden skull with a laurel around it stitched onto the cap. His chiseled face was slightly aged and sported a small moustache of dark hair. His trench coat sported a collection of bright gold and crimson medals.

"By the Emperor, I didn't expect you so soon Landon!" exclaimed Tomas.

Landon chuckled at his friend's jumpiness. "It's nice to see you again too Tom, it's been a long time."

Tomas smiled "Indeed it has. I heard that you are now commandant of a Progenium Abbey now in western Cadia." Landon nodded proudly. Tomas continued "Well that is why I need to talk to you. I found a boy in the ruins of Kasr Kallen, he survived in there by himself during the crusade and was in bad shape when we found him."

"And what do you need me for, old friend?" asked Landon, not sure of his friend's intentions. The commissar sighed sadly as he looked out again at the ruined city. "The whole city was consumed by chaos. There is nothing left for him here, not anymore. I wish to send him to train at the Schola, where he can learn to defend mankind, help in the Imperium's defense one day. He will at least have a future then."

Landon nodded, understanding. "It will not be an easy feat to get him in, many would judge him too old to begin training-"

"Grant him in the Schola, that's all I ask. I will train him myself if need be. I am worthy of retirement, I would return the favour by training students if you get him in. Tomas Reasoned.

Landon thought about this. He knew that his friend was skilled and remembered back in their day at the Schola where he was greater than any of the others, even the elders were amazed by his ability. He would be an invaluable teacher.

He finally made his decision. He smiled at Tomas. "Very well Tom. I will accept the boy in exchange for your service. I hope that you know what you're doing."

Tomas glanced at the boy's cot. "I believe I do, Landon. He has proven he is strong; let's see what else he is." As he said this, the boy began dosing, falling into a deep sleep.

Kevin looked out the window of the Valkyrie transport as it passed by mountains and farmhouses below. It all seemed peaceful as he watched herds of livestock being tended to by farmers and grazing in the countryside. He was used to large cities and tall buildings littering the landscape but instead the gothic buildings were replaced by towering trees and rockcrete pavements replaced by lush green grassland. It was something Kevin could get used to.

The transport slowed down till it was hovering idly in the air. Commissar McCullin turned to him and smiled. "Look's like we're here." He said. Kevin turned to the commissar.

"Sir, I've been wondering where we are going the whole time we've been on this tiny ship, where exactly are we going?" asked Kevin, curious.

The ship began to drop onto a large landing pad in the middle of what looked like a military academy. As the hatch at the rear of the flyer opened he saw young men and women, some in their teens, some even younger, being taught how to handle rifles and pistols, fight in hand to hand combat, and preaching about the Emperor.

He followed Commissar McCullin out of the craft towards a large cathedral-like building that stood out among the other buildings that made up the academy. Kevin quickly looked around and saw students looking at him. Some with friendly smiles, some with looks of disgust, a small group of girls giggled when he looked at them. One even winked at him. He walked up the stairs with McCullin, looking at statues of Imperial heroes, a few statues of Space Marines, a few of Imperial Officers. Kevin had heard of a few of these men, although the majority was not familiar to him at all.

They entered a great door into the cathedral and walked into a large, dark room that seemed to be filled with shadows. Kevin looked around, only seeing darkness and the shady figures obscured in the darkness. They seemed to be observing him, judging him by his gestures.

One of the shadows spoke up. "This is the boy you brought?" it said in an aged, gravelly voice.

Fear took over Kevin. "Yes cardinal, this is the one I observed." Said another, Kevin instantly recognized as McCullin.

"He is too old to start training, I say we dispose of this fool before we-"

McCullin interrupted it "Did I too not start training till late in my life? This boy lasted by himself in a city enslaved by heretics with only a battered laspistol and what he could scavenge! He shows promise; he could be a great asset to the Imperium's armed forces."

The shadows began arguing amongst each other. Voices that had remained silent began speaking up. One of the shadows spoke up.

"Enough!! End this madness! As you all know I am the one who decides his fate. Perhaps we should ask the boy. What is your name, boy?"

"Kevin sir, no surname" he stuttered out.

The shadow nodded, "Ad do you believe in the God-Emperor of mankind, who sits as lord of man and its million worlds on the golden throne?"

"Yes sir." Kevin replied."

"And do you wish to repay your dept to him by giving your life in his name?"

Kevin paused, the shadows watching intently, waiting for an answer from the boy. Kevin looked at the shadow that seemed to be asking the questions. He focused on it, looking into where its eyes are suspected to be.

"No sir." He said confidently, causing the audience to gasp at his remark.

"On what grounds do you think you can say that?" Exclaimed the lead shadow, outraged at the boy's words.

"I do not wish to give my life for him; I wish to follow in his steps by defending the Imperium from those that threaten to destroy it and help its people on the way to enlightenment in His eyes." Kevin said, still looking at the shadow.

The lead shadow smirked at him, impressed by his words and his courage. "Very well then Kevin. You shall begin training at this great Schola as an Inquisitor Acolyte. Your devotion to guide those in the dark to the Emperor's light will be a valuable tool."

Kevin quickly spoke up "with all respect sirs I have always despised Inquisitors for their interrogation of the innocent, believing all of heresy. If I may, I wish to train to become a Commissar, with Commissar McCullin as my mentor."

The figures now revealed themselves to be masters and priests of the schola council. The Schoolmaster stepped forward and shook Kevin's hand. "Very well then. I, Commandant Landon Articus, assign you to train as a Commissar Cadet under the wing of Commissar Tomas McCullin. I hope to see great things from you Kevin McCullin." Kevin looked at the commissar with one eyebrow raised. The Commissar just shrugged. Kevin McCullin got on the road to be Commissar Kevin McCullin.

Okay 3 chapters done, great. I'm off to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Bolter rounds were flying past Sergeant Hart's head as he ducked behind a pile of rubble that had collapsed in a city block. His platoon had taken fire from a 1 story building in a town square and had lost their lieutenant and several troopers in the firefight. He had taken command for the time being, but was struggling to gain an advantage. He looked to his left to see a trooper from 2nd squad firing his lasrifle at the building, firing in bursts. He was about to change his magazine when an enemy las-round hit him in the chest, killing him instantly. As his corpse fell on his back a medic checked his vital signs, pulling his fingers over the deceased eyelids after confirming his death.

Hart spat a curse and turned to give an order to the trooper next to him when suddenly he heard whistling in the air. He looked up to see smoke trails coming towards their positions. "Incoming, get to cover!!" He yelled as he got up from the ground. The platoon hastily got up from their defenses in the middle of the square and headed towards the buildings at the other side of the square. Light artillery shells were dropping all around the 44 man platoon, taking the lives of three men in front of Hart. Two troopers were also consumed by fire as two shells landed in front of and to their left. Hart was launched off his feet by an explosion from behind him that managed to take out a trooper holding a grenade launcher and sent onto his stomach. He quickly grabbed his helmet and held it tight onto his head. As the artillery ceased the platoon kept falling back. Suddenly three bolt pistol rounds were fired into the air, causing everyone to freeze. The dizzy sergeant was helped to his feet by a young man in his early twenties with a red and black uniform and peaked cap with a trenchcoat unbuttoned and being used as a cape. In his hands were a buzzing power sword and a smoking bolt pistol.

"Need a hand Sergeant?" the man said with a smirk on his face.

Hart just looked at him, wondering what he would do. He recognized the young man as a commissar, and that their job was to dispose of cowards. And since he has been caught running from the fight he felt like a deer in headlights.

The commissar saw his expression and smiled. "Commissar Kevin McCullin, at your service." He said. Squad leaders gathered up survivors. The platoon of originally 44 men was down to 26. Kevin looked at the enemy held building and frowned hatefully.

He turned to the sergeant. "I want mortars and grenade launchers on that building for cover fire." He said as he pointed at the building. "While their pinned we run towards the obstacles around the building and use them as cover. Provide a base of fire with auto cannons and heavy bolters. Keep them suppressed at all times." A vox-trooper beside him had already begun to give coordinates to the company mortar platoon. Hart rounded up the platoon and set up by the commissar. McCullin raised his power sword, it flickering into life in his hands. He yelled the most common phrase used in the Imperium.

"For the Emperor!!!"

The platoon chorused behind him, although they were drowned out by the mortar rounds that began pounding the building in front of them. They went in a sprint towards the defenses, firing of las-rounds as they went. They quickly slumped behind the barriers, just as the artillery died down. Heavy weapons teams quickly set up their large guns and unleashed a hail of heavy caliber explosive rounds into the enemy building. Hart could see cultists and marines being forced to take cover from the barrage of fire. Those who stood their ground or didn't make it to the ground in time were ripped apart.

The Commissar took cover behind a pile of scrap that used to be a table, a couch and various other pieces of furniture. The enemy rounds began to hail down on the guardsmen. The commissar braced himself as rounds began to pelt the barricade. Several guardsmen beside him, including hart, were gripping their helmets firmly against their heads. The commissar looked above the barricade in time to see another salvo of artillery shells batter the building. Inside the building four cultists were killed by the high explosive shells and several more were wounded. The Marines inside seemed to ignore them as their armour deflected the blasts.

The smoke began to build up at the building and McCullin wasn't going to let the smokescreen go to waste. He jumped to his feet and pointed his power sword towards the enemy. "Charge, for the Emperor, men of Cadia!!" The guardsmen instantly got up and readied themselves. Bayonets were being fixed on lasguns and magazines were being changed. The commissar fired two bolt rounds at the building and then charged, guardsmen keeping pace with him. The smoke cleared and the chaos forces were getting to their feet when a power sword wielding commissar accompanied by a platoon of angry guardsmen tore down the doors of the small building.

Hart drew his chainsword and swung at a knife wielding traitor. The teeth of his chainsword bit through the cultist's fatigues with ease. As he pulled his chainsword out of the corpse another traitor took a swing at him with the butt of his autogun, Hart barely dodging it. The traitor took one more swing at Hart, knocking him to the ground. The traitor was about to fire when his head exploded. Hart looked behind the fallen body and saw McCullin with a smoking bolt pistol in his hand. The commissar was overcast by the shadow of a hulking figure to his left. He turned to see a fallen space marine in dark red power armour. It had silver trim around its shoulder pads, with a dirty and slightly rusted bolter in one hand and an old, hulking Power fist on the other. On its chest armour was a symbol resembling an eight pointed star and a demonic face on its right shoulder. There was a Captain's symbol on its helmet. It had a raven guard space marine helmet on a spike on its defiled backpack, a clear sign of its hatred for the Imperium's finest.

It knocked a stool out of its way as he stomped forward. "I will destroy you, Imperial!" it bellowed out from its vox-grille. McCullin charged his power sword, readying to attack. As it trundled forward, a guardsman charged it, bayonet at the ready. The marine shrugged off his attacks and smacked him out of the way. The commissar lunged at it and hit it with an uppercut from his sword. The marine lost balance and fell back a few steps, enough time for the commissar to stab it in the chest, piercing its heart. The marine fell to the ground with a thud. As McCullin pulled his sword out of it chest it let out a breath and the lights in its eyes flickered and died.

The commissar looked around the bloodstained ruin. There was a dusty bench with taps and dirty glasses littering it. On the wall behind it was a blackboard with drink names and prices on it. The tables were either pelted with bullet holes or had legs torn off and the chairs were old and splintered. Kevin assumed that this used to be a bar. He sighed and helped Sergeant Hart to his feet. "Get your men back to the rest of your company and move on to the next obstacle. The 46th Armoured was moving up to assist earlier so you'll most likely get tank support."

Hart looked at him, puzzled. "But sir, the battle is over. The heretics will be on their toes now."

It was now McCullin's turn to be puzzled. "What are you talking about sergeant?"

The Sergeant began to smirk. "Commissar, it was our job to get the 46th behind enemy lines. The rest of our regiment stayed behind to keep the gap in the line open, and since the tanks have made it through the enemy should be on their feet right now. Vendetta squadrons got their armour before we got here in force. Our job is done sir; the traitors will either turn tail or be crushed by our armors treads."

Kevin began to realize what happened when a basilisk Self-propelled gun drove into position and set up its gun. Moments later the thunder of volleys of earth shaker artillery cannons was all that anyone heard. The vox-op began to code a new message near the two. He turned to Commissar McCullin and Hart. "Sir, command says to look to the hills." The platoon shifted their gaze to the hills outside the city. Traitor marines and cultists were rushing up the hills, a few cultists being cut down by over flying thunderbolt fighters. Kevin smiled as the chaos forces fled. "We're on our way to liberation, Sergeant." Hart nodded in agreement.

As the chaos army fled a person looked on at the Imperial army. The power armoured figure growled and looked around at the positions of the guardsmen, Kasrkins cutting down fleeing marines with their hot-shot armour piercing lasguns, battle tanks lobbing shells at what little armour they had left, and rank and file guardsmen lighting smokes or gathering supplies from local stores. His eye turned to a sight that surprised him.

He zoomed in on a Commissar and a group of guardsmen lifting a marine out of a building and throwing him on a pile of rubble. The figure gritted his teeth at the sight of this dead marine. "How could that imbecile leave his headquarters undefended to let an army of guard take him?" he thought to himself. He turned his gaze to the commissar cleaning the blood off his power sword. A chaos marine came up behind him and bowed. "My lord, we've received word that Balthazar has been slain." It said.

"I know." Replied a deep, intimidating voice. He turned to the marine. "Mount up your men and get ready to move out of here. We are no longer needed as one of the Despoiler's pawns."

"But what about the city?" asked the marine.

"It is no longer our concern. I have something special planned for the Imperium's lapdogs." He smirked, his devious mind constructing his scheme.

The marine nodded and began to leave. "Yes Dark Apostle, your will be done."

Before leaving himself, he took one more look at the Commissar, getting a vid-pic of him. "Mark my words commissar, I shall deal with you soon enough." He chuckled evilly, a devilish smirk forming on his corrupted lips.

Okay, so good chapter, bad chapter? Tell me your thoughts so I can do some tweakage. The dark apostle's voice is supposed to be like Eliphas the Inheritor's off of Dawn of War Dark Crusade.


End file.
